


A Limited Enthusiasm For Monogamy

by sarcasticsra



Category: Swindon Town Swoodilypoopers
Genre: Cteve POV, F/M, I Don't Even Know, M/M, random fic is random, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/pseuds/sarcasticsra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cteve's life is a little weird, but that's actually just fine with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Limited Enthusiasm For Monogamy

**Author's Note:**

> I...don't know, okay? It just happened. Thanks for beta'ing, Kelly. Title comes from Real John Green himself, in describing Cteve, shamelessly appropriated because I enjoyed the turn of phrase.

It was bloody weird sometimes, Cteve thought, being the odd one out in a club where so many of the guys were married, or about to be married, or really wanted to be married.

There was Voluptuous and Alice, who had literally been together forever—and he meant that ‘literally’, ‘cause he was pretty sure they’d been together since they were fuckin’ _zygotes_ —and then there were the Johns, who were freakishly in tune both on and off the pitch, to the point where most people who met them suspected actual bloody telepathy. Perry’s wife had just had their first kid, Ricardo was head over heels for Susan, and Leeroy and Gordon both had long-term girlfriends.

Sure, Ginger was single, dated around, but Cteve knew the difference between single by choice and single and hating it, and as much as Ginger claimed it was the former, he wasn’t an idiot.

It wasn’t like he minded—he’d always thought it was weird, people getting all worked up about other people’s lives—but given his own particular style, it made him stand out.

He’d tried doing the ‘girlfriend’ thing once, with little success. It turned out he wasn’t that great at that whole monogamy business. He still remembered Jessica coming after him with her cricket bat after she found out about Ginny and Sasha.

Which, yeah, was fair enough, he could admit that. He’d deserved it. 

(Last he’d heard, the three of them were best mates. That, admittedly, sort of spooked the hell out of him.)

It made nights like this weird, when they were out at the pub, because he knew he was the only one who might seriously be looking to pick up a girl. At least it cut down on the competition, not that he’d be worried otherwise. He’d never had any shortage of offers.

Cteve finished off the last of his beer and glanced around the bar. His teammates had definitely settled into their various habits that meant they were somewhere between tipsy and properly pissed: Vol was showing off pictures of Alice and his kids to anyone who’d sit still long enough to listen; Leeroy and Gordon were each drunk-dialing their girlfriends; and the Johns had retreated to a booth, casually invading each others’ personal space more than was really necessary in order to talk.

Yeah, everyone was in ‘relaxation’ mode.

Cteve escaped his seat before Vol could corner him, since it looked like he was winding down with Perry—it wasn’t that he didn’t care about his family, exactly. It was that he’d seen those pictures roughly half a dozen times before.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he didn’t really care that much. Sue him, huh?

He passed the Johns on the way to the bar, shoving lightly at Other John’s shoulder and saying, “Oi, mates, get a room already, yeah?”

Other John snorted and rolled his eyes, and Bald John absently flipped him off—the proper English way, even, which was impressive for a Yank—without glancing up. He laughed to himself as he continued on his way to the bar.

The bartender was definitely not the portly guy who’d been behind the bar when they’d first come in. She was _fit_ , a tall redhead with an impressive rack, and how the bloody hell had he missed _that_ shift change?

No wonder Ginger had kept volunteering to get the drinks after a certain point. He should’ve questioned that; he wasn’t exactly the nicest bloke on the team.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Cteve said, leaning against the bar. He sent her a winning smile. “Got a name?”

She gave him an amused look. “Sure do,” she said. “What can I get you? To drink, I should specify.”

“Another pint,” he said. “Any chance you’ll share that name of yours?”

“Sorry, Football,” she said, getting him his drink. “You don’t play my game.”

“Oh? You sure ‘bout that?” Cteve asked. “Ever seen my game?”

“More than once,” she told him, sliding his pint toward him. “Haven’t been converted. And if you say anything about just needing to watch you play, I’m going to be forced to dump that over your head.”

He grinned. She was exactly his sort: utterly gorgeous, bold, and able to see right through his shit.

That did explain the cricket bat thing, looking back.

“Ouch,” he said, smirking. “You sure know how to wound a bloke. My lines aren’t _that_ trite.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re _much_ more original,” she said, dryly, but also blatantly checked him out, eyes raking down his body.

“But you’ll never know unless you tell me your name, at least.” He leaned in.

She snorted, looking thoughtful, and then said, “Oh, what the hell. I let myself make one bad decision each month.” She smirked. “I’m Mels.”

“Mels.” He grinned. “I’m Cteve. One bad decision a month, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Pub closes in an hour. You better be worth it.”

“I am,” he said, cocky, because, hell, he was, and he knew it.

She only rolled her eyes, the tiniest hint of a smile at her mouth. 

“Hey, Cteve,” called Other John suddenly, from the booth, “get a room already, huh?”

He idly returned Bald John’s two-fingered salute from earlier, and Mels just laughed, shaking her head. “Footballers,” she said.

Cteve picked up his beer and took a sip, grinning. It was definitely weird, this club, he thought.

But it worked.


End file.
